


Our Town

by Sir_Thopas



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Politics, Rebuilding, Slice of Life, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:34:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29947308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sir_Thopas/pseuds/Sir_Thopas
Summary: On October 23, 2287, Dottie Wilson, a Pre-War housewife, climbed out of Vault 111.This story is not about her.This story is about the town of Sanctuary, from its Pre-War beginnings as an affluent suburb, to a struggling farm village, and finally as the epicenter of a new Commonwealth.(An experiment in world building)
Relationships: Preston Garvey/Sole Survivor
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	Our Town

_By 2031, the United States was in desperate need of both fuel and cash. This prompted the dissolution of the National Parks. The land was sold to oil companies and land developers. Construction on Sanctuary Hills began in 2075. It was built as a suburb of Concord for the upwardly mobile middle class fleeing the violence and desperation found in American cities._

Dottie leaned forward in her excitement until she was almost hunched over the steering wheel. The car rattled as it went over the rebuilt North Bridge, past the Minutemen statue, towards their new home: Sanctuary Hills. "You know, this whole place used to be a national park," Nate said. He had that wistful tone he got sometimes.

"Well, I'm glad we did away with all those parks," Dottie said, flipping her blonde curls over her shoulder to look at him. "What's the point in all that land if you're not going to use it?"

Nate gave a noncommittal hum.

"Oh, look! Look! There it is!"

Dottie was almost bouncing in her seat as they turned the corner into Sanctuary. The houses were brand new and sparkling, in an array of cotton candy colors. Most important was the USAF station not far from their little town, just across the river. Dottie was confident in their ability to keep out the riff raff. Their old neighborhood in Boston was swarming with beggars. Dottie had been afraid to leave her apartment, especially with Nate overseas. But here, in Sanctuary Hills, Dottie would be able to raise a family. Little Jake-or-Amanda would have a backyard to play in, safe streets to ride their bikes on, maybe even a dog! If she could convince Nate to get one. Dottie let her hand rest gently on the still smooth planes of her stomach.

38 Sanctuary Street. Dottie felt her heart jump at the sight of her blue house, the largest on the street (Dottie had insisted on _that_ ). The moving van was already parked on the curb, unloading furniture and boxes. Dottie turned into the driveway and had hopped out before Nate had even gotten his cane. She stood in awe in the middle of her living room. The carpet was soft, the windows wide, the thermostat set at a perfect 72 degrees. The chrome gleamed so bright she could see her reflection.

"Get out of the way, honey," Nate said as he limped inside behind her. "You're blocking the movers."

Nate nudged her out of the doorway. One of the movers shuffled inside, his arms straining with the weight of their brand new Mr. Handy. "Oh, oh! Put it right here!" Dottie called. The mover was only too glad to drop it in front of their feet, right in front of their sofa.

"Let's open it!"

"Now?" Nate sighed.

"Yes, now!" Dottie was already ripping the box open. She peered inside, sighing with relief to find that it was already assembled. She reached inside, thinking to pull it out. She grunted, her muscles straining, and the great metal sphere did not move so much as an inch.

She heard Nate laugh behind her. "Here, look. There are arrows on the box."

Nate folded the sides of the box until it laid completely flat. He picked up the instruction manual, glanced over it, and pressed a button hidden underneath. The sphere sprung to life. It launched into the air, hovering in front of them, as its arms and eyestalks emerged. Dottie eyed its claw dubiously. "We're not letting it anywhere near David-or-Sarah."

"What happened to Jake-or-Amanda?"

Dottie shrugged. "I changed my mind."

Nate hummed. "Have you ever thought about Nora?"

"That was my old roommate's name!" Dottie laughed.

She expected Nate to laugh along with her. Really, _Nora_? She couldn't help but associate the name Nora with that self-righteous nerd she had been forced to room with all throughout college. Nora turned every conversation Dottie ever tried to have with her into something about politics or civil rights abuses or blah blah blah. Dottie didn't get her law degree to practice law! She got it to catch a husband! God, and Nate wanted to name their daughter that? Their daughter was going to be _beautiful_ , not smart.

Nate didn't laugh though. He just shrugged and looked away.

Dottie frowned and picked up the discarded instruction manual, pretending to read it. "Well, what if it's a boy?" She asked, desperate to break the silence.

"I kind of like Shaun."

Shaun _was_ a nice name. "Oh, hey, it says here I need to say the activation code A394920JE93!"

The eyestalks swivelled to look at her. "General Atomics International thanks you for your purchase!" It chirped in an upbeat British accent. "Your Mr. Handy unit comes with several pre-programmed personalities and voices. Would you like to cycle through them or upload a custom personality?"

"Oh, uh, just the standard personality please."

"Standard it is!" The Mr. Handy seemed to come a bit more to life. "Do you wish to give this unit a personalized designation?"

"Mr. Handy is fine--" Nate started to say, but Dottie cut him off by loudly announcing, "Codsworth!"

"Codsworth it is then! Very good! And might I congratulate you on your choice of name!"

"Why 'Codsworth'?" Nate asked.

"It's a pun! Cods are the little wheel-things inside of machines, and the 'worth' part just makes it sound so British and uppercrust."

"Honey… those are _cogs_. A _cod_ is a type of fish."

"Oh."

"And might I ask how you wish I address my new owners?" Codsworth asked.

Dottie turned back to him, her smile bright. "Mr. and Mrs. Wilson."

* * *

The circle of blue grew wider and Dottie could see a sliver of cloud as the lift lurched upward. The ground broke the horizon and Dottie threw her hand up to protect her eyes. The sun was blinding. It hurt. Spots -- blue spots and green spots and red spots -- danced in front of her. She rubbed at her face, scrubbing away the tears that had sprung up and made everything shimmer. When she finally wiped them all away, she stared down at the remains of her home. It was a sea of brown, gray, and sickly yellow.

Her knees buckled as she stumbled down the path. The world around her was silent. There were no leaves to shake in the wind, no birds that chirped or people that laughed and played. The only thing she heard was the sound of glass and gravel crunching beneath her boots and… humming?

Codsworth hovered in front of the remains of her old house, trimming dead bushes as he hummed to himself. One of his eyestalks swivelled at her approach. “As I live and breathe!” He gasped as he jerked forward. “It’s… it’s _really_ you!”

“Codsworth!” Dottie’s voice sounded raspy, and she realized just how parched her mouth felt. “You’re… still here. So… other people could still be alive too…”

“Well of course I’m still here. Surely you didn’t think a little radiation could deter the pride of General Atomics International? But you seem the worse for wear.” Dottie looked down at her dirty Vault suit. Codsworth leaned forward conspiratorially. “Best not let the hubby see you in that state. Where is Sir, by the way?”

Dottie looked back up, gesturing to the hill that loomed behind him. “They came into the Vault… Maybe you saw them? They had guns… and strange outfits?”

Codsworth waved his claw at the twisted metal that had belonged to the Rosas. “Only Ms. Rosa’s boy, running around in his Halloween costume, more than a week early. I swear, the nerve of that woman leaving her brat unsupervised.”

Dottie didn’t remember seeing Benny Rosa that morning she and her family had fled into the Vault. Maybe he was still there, underneath all that metal. Should she try to help? She remembered watching a film in elementary school; he was supposed to tap on the metal to alert people he was alive in there. Dottie tried to listen for any tapping, but all she heard was Codsworth buzzing.

“Not like you, Mum,” he said. “You’re the perfect mother. And Sir is… oh, where is Sir, by the by?”

She just told him. Men. With guns. And strange outfits. Wasn't he listening? “They… they killed him.”

“Mum… these things you’re saying. These… terrible things… I… I believe you need a distraction. Yes! A distraction to calm this dire mood.” His eyestalks were swivelling rapidly. “It’s been ages since we’ve had a proper family activity. Checkers! Or perhaps charades. Shaun does so love that game. Is the lad… with you… ?”

 _Shaun_ … Shaun! “Shaun’s been kidnapped,” Dottie said. She sucked in a deep breath. “But I’m going to find him! I’m going to get my son back!”

Codsworth placed his claw on top of her head, trying to check her temperature. She batted him away. “It’s worse than I thought. Hmm hmm. You’re suffering from… hunger-induced paranoia. Not eating properly for 200 years will do that, I’m afraid.”

Dottie felt the ground rock beneath her feet. “200 years? What? Are you…?”

“A bit over 210 actually, Mum. Give or take a little for the Earth’s rotation and some minor dings to the old chronometer.” He laughed. “That means you’re two centuries late for dinner! Ha ha ha. Perhaps I can whip you up a snack? You must be famished.”

Oh. Then Benny Rosa would definitely not be tapping for help, and if he _did_ start tapping then it was probably best if she ignored it. Codsworth had apparently lost whatever robot brains he had in the past 200 years, she needed to keep whatever bit of sanity she had left. Dottie rubbed at her eyes again, trying to refocus. “Codsworth, you’re acting… a little bit weird. What’s wrong?”

“I… I…” Codsworth flailed his limbs. “Oh, Mum, it’s been horrible!” He wailed. “Two centuries with no one to talk to, no one to serve. I spent the first ten years trying to keep the floors waxed, but nothing gets nuclear fallout from vinyl wood. Nothing! And don’t get me started on the futility of dusting a collapsed house. And the car! The car! How do you polish rust?”

Dottie grabbed the sphere, holding him in place as he hovered anxiously in front of her. “What do you know, Codsworth?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know anything, Mum. The bombs came, and all of you left in such a hurry. I thought for certain you and your family were… dead. I did find this holotape--” Codsworth popped open a small compartment in his bag, where a holotape had fixed. He plucked it with his claw, dropping it in her hands. “I believe Sir was going to present it to you. As a surprise. But then, well… everything ‘happened.’”

Dottie ran her thumb across it. Codsworth bobbed, waiting, before finally blurting out. “Now! Enough feeling sorry for myself. Shall we search the neighborhood together? Sir and young Shaun may turn up yet.”

She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the holotape. “I need… I need to lie down.”

“Of course! You go right inside, I’ll take care of the search!”

Codsworth flew off to search through a dead neighborhood, humming to himself, while Dottie stumbled up the concrete steps into her house. The shiny metal walls she had so admired were rusted and full of holes. Whole panels had fallen off, leaving the interior exposed to the elements. Leaves and broken glass littered the ground.

Dottie wandered down the hall, to the nursery. The crib was still mostly intact. She ran her hand along he cot, hoping to feel something. Some remnant that he had once slept here, but it was cold and dirty.

She left the nursery and walked into her old bedroom. The best games had collapsed, but the mattress was still there. Dottie brushed off the leaves and laid down, for knce not caring about the filth. She fiddles with the holidays, inserting it into her Pipboy. Nate's voice filled the room, alongside Shaun's happy giggles. _Oops. Ha ha ha. No, no. Little fingers away. There we go. Just say it. Right there. Right there. Go ahead._ Shaun laughed again. _Ha ha! Yay! Hi honey! Listen…_

 _I don't think Shaun and I need to tell you how great of a mother you are… but we're going to anyway. You are kind, and loving--_ Shaun laughed again. _\--And funny! Ha ha. That's right! And patient. So patient. Patience of a saint, as your mother used to say. Look, with Shaun, and us all being at home together… It's been an amazing year. But even so, I know our best days are yet to come. There will be changed, sure. Things we'll need to adjust to. I'll rejoin the civilian workforce. You'll shake the dust off your law degree… But everything we do, no matter how hard... we do it for our family._

_Now, say goodbye, Shaun… Bye bye? Say, bye bye? Bye, honey! We love you!_

She heard Codsworth enter the bedroom. "Oh, Mum!" He wailed, like a lost child. "They're… they're not here!"

"I know."

"What shall we do?"

"Read to me."

Codsworth latched on to this command like a drowning man. "Where we left off?" He asked.

"Yes."

"'Pa began the house first. He paced off the size of it on the ground, then with his spade he dug a shallow little hollow along two sides of that space,'" Codsworth droned in that voice determined to be the most aesthetically pleasing by General Atomic scientists. He continued reciting Laura Ingalls Wilder's description of that little house on the prairie, "'Into these hollows he rolled two of the biggest logs. They were sound, strong logs, because they must hold up the house...'"

Dottie fell into a natural sleep, the first in 200 years.

* * *

When Dottie awoke, the mid-morning sun was shining through a hole in her ceiling. Codsworth floated into her bedroom. "Good morning, Mum! For today's breakfast, I have water and a nice bowl of squash and carrot soup, all locally sourced!"

Dottie was a little afraid of these 'locally sourced' vegetables. "Is there still a bottle of whiskey in the living room cabinet?"

"Good heavens! It's not even noon! And you'll just make yourself even more dehydrated. Now, eat up!"

Dottie sat up and Codsworth placed a cracked, but clean bowl in her lap. The "soup" insisted of boiled water with thin slices of a rather large carrot and some type of gourd. It was bland and the texture mushy. The electricity was out; Dottie assumed that meant none of the appliances would work either. She'd have to figure out cooking if she wanted to make her home livable again. Shaun was just a baby. He couldn't sleep in a house like this, on a filthy mattress, eating raw vegetable mush.

Her stomach tightened; the 200 year old Sugar Bombs that she had ate the morning the bombs fell still sat in her stomach. Dottie leaned over and vomited onto the floor, bits of brightly colored marshmallows lay scattered among the dead leaves. Codsworth patted her back gently with his claw, but she heard him mutter, "Well, I didn't think it was _that_ bad."

"Whiskey," Dottie rasped.

Codsworth sighed and disappeared into the living room. He came back and handed her a shot glass. Dottie bolted it down in one swift motion. It had _not_ aged well.

Dottie made a face and handed Codsworth the glass. "Okay! Let's move everything out onto the front lawn."

Codsworth goggled at her. "Everything?"

"Everything. I'm tearing this place down."

"No! You can't!" Codsworth fluttered around her, visibly anxious at the thought of destroying the one thing that anchored him to this world.

"I am. It's coming down. I can't bring Shaun back here. This place is falling down around our ears. We need something that can withstand the elements. Look outside." Dottie pointed to the sprawling forest that surrounded them. "Trees as far as the eye can see… that's what we'll use."

"Are you suggesting we build a _log_ _cabin_?"

"Why not? You've got the instructions. Laura Ingalls Wilder was pretty detailed. I think between the two of us we can make a decent go of it."

Codsworth kept one eyestalk on her, another on the forest, while the last darted around, taking in the work around them. "Alright. Let's try it!"


End file.
